The Clothes (don't) Make the Man
by hyenateeth
Summary: Yao is secure enough in himself to be able to wear dresses. Ivan wants to be that confident as well. So he might as well jump into the metaphorical deep end. Confidence is key after all. China/Russia, originally posted to Tumblr as part of the RoChu Secret Santa.


Written for the RoChu Secret Santa on Tumblr, for tumblr user ohonhonhonhon. The request was for R-18 RoChu with crossdressing Ivan and top Yao. (Which I guess makes it ChuRo but I don't like calling it ChuRo because it makes me think of churros and then I am hungry and I can't take the name seriously.)

So that's what this is. This was originally posted on my Tumblr on the 25th.

The basic style of dress Ivan wears can be seen in pretty much any Degas painting. (With some modifications, different top, not quite as stiff.) Just google image search "edgar degas ballerina" and you will get the basic idea.

Now onto the fic.

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**The Clothes (don't) Make the Man**

Ivan took a deep, nervous breath. He could do this. He could. It was about confidence. He could do this.

Ivan's inner pep talk was interrupted by a knocking at the bathroom door. "Ivan?" a familiar voice called from the other side. "Are you alright?"

Quickly he forced his voice into a cheerful, if a bit stilted, lilt. "I am fine Yao! I will be just a minute!"

There was silence from where Ivan knew his lover had to be standing, and Ivan knew he wasn't convinced. Yao could always deduce his moods, maybe even better than Ivan could himself. It was frustrating in a way. Yao was mysterious in ways Ivan longed to be, had strived towards for years, and here the older nation could read him in ways no one else could even with a heavy wooden door between them.

And sure enough after a weighty pause Yao began again. "Ivan, if you changed your mi-"

"I'm fine!" His voice went up at the end, choking a little bit, betraying him. "Just give me a minute!"

There was another moment of silence. Then Yao called back a thoroughly unconvinced "Fine," and then Ivan was pretty sure he heard the light footsteps of the man walking away. Ivan sighed heavily once he was sure that Yao wouldn't hear. This had been idea. He was fine. He could do this.

Still, it took all the bravery he could muster to turn and look at himself in the bathroom mirror.

It was black. He had figured a neutral color would be best, and white would have washed him out too much. So, black it was. It was simple too, relatively unadorned apart from some beading around the collar and...

And it was a dress. Ivan was wearing a dress.

A relatively nice dress, he supposed. It was specially made. Of course for any dress to fit him, it would have to be specially made, ad he supposed he should feel lucky that his status of nation gave you some leeway to make strange requests and have no one question it or argue when he requested their silence on the matter.

It was styled after a ballet tutu, the classical bell kind, which had always been Ivan's favorite when he went to performances in his country. It reached down to around his knees and was actually rather pretty, made of netting and tulle, cinched around the waist with a red sash, with a straight neckline and straps that kept the bodice up despite his lack of breasts.

It was a nice dress. But Ivan was the one wearing it.

It had been his idea though. All of this had.

It... It was just...

Yao would wear dresses sometimes. It wasn't exactly his first choice in clothing, but it did happen sometimes and... it never seemed to bother him too much. And that impressed Ivan. The one time Ivan had been forced to wear one, during that infuriating time in April and he had not been able to get over the embarrassment.

But Yao... had just not cared. It had struck him a few days later, while he was resolutely trying to forget that anyone had ever seen him in dress. He hadn't cared. He never seemed insecure, actually, about any of it. The long hair, the delicate features, the nature of his relationship with Ivan... He had to know the jokes the other nations made, but it just never seemed to _bother_ Yao.

And that was when Ivan had realized that Yao was just that secure.

And that had intrigued Ivan.

Ivan was used to putting himself in a position of power, making other nations respect and fear him. He was large and strong and that made it easy but...

Ivan was not confident, not secure. Not in his power, not in his position, not in himself.

_But Yao was._

And... Ivan wanted that. He really did. He wanted to be able to be vulnerable, at least in front of Yao. If Yao was confident enough, trusted him enough...

He wasn't sure why he had chosen crossdressing though. Maybe that said more about his own tastes than anything else.

Still, as determined he had been when presenting the idea to Yao (who had seemed mostly amused by the idea but had agreed none the less), actually standing here, wearing the dress...

It felt weird. He had prepared for it, sort of, had removed most of his excess body hair (which had been a pain), but it was still weird. The way it let air flow around his legs, the light tickling of the tulle on his legs, the rustling of the layers when he shifted... he didn't know how people got used to it. He felt strangely exposed, despite the fact that it was longer than the dress he had been made to wear before.

And as for how he looked, well, he looked like a man wearing a dress. Ivan was not small or pretty or delicate like Yao, he just looked like... him. In a dress.

Sighing, Ivan straightened his skirts a little. He hoped Yao did not laugh him out of the bedroom. He was worried he looked too ridiculous to be attractive. And if he did he knew he would never get over it, even if Yao never brought it up again. He would remember.

He still wanted to try though. Because what if it went well? And anyway, it would just as embarrassing to chicken out when he had gotten this far. So Ivan forced himself to stop fiddling with the hem of his dress, combed his hair with his fingers, then resolutely turned to the door.

He could do this. He could.

Yao was exactly where he had supposed he would be, in Ivan's bedroom. He seemed to have stopped by the personal library that Ivan kept though, as he was lounging on the bed with a book open, eyes scanning over the cyrillic. He had undone his ponytail, long hair falling over one shoulder, and was dressed casually, in the plain t-shirt and sweatpants that he would wear around the house, totally comfortable in Ivan's house, in his bed, and it warmed Ivan's heart a little to see, giving him the courage to clear his throat to catch the man's attention.

Yao looked up, and immediately sat up on the bed, putting the book to the side and smiling, a soft, gentle smile. "So you got it on," was all he said.

Ivan nodded, resolute not to show his nervousness, and walked over to the bed. "Does it look okay?" he asked, trying to sound aloof and flippant, and likely failing spectacularly. But China just grinned.

"You look _adorable_ Ivan."

They both knew how weighty that compliment was coming from Yao. It made a warm happiness bubble in Ivan's stomach, and he was sure that he was about to start blushing, so he quickly leaned down and kissed Yao, hiding his face, because wearing a dress was one thing, but being caught blushing because of a simple compliment from his lover was another.

Yao chuckled into the kiss but returned it immediately, reaching up and lacing his fingers together behind Ivan's neck, guiding him down so he was soon straddling the smaller man, a knee on either side of him, skirts rustling between them.

After a few more moments of kissing Yao pulled away gently and looked at Ivan purposefully, eyes half-lidded. "So you are sure about this?" he asked softly, air tickling Ivan's dry lips.

Ivan wrapped his arms around Yao and nodded, drawing the older nation back in for another kiss, a deeper, harder kiss.

Ivan was sure. He was ready. He could do this.

Because not only was Ivan wearing a dress that tickled his thighs whenever he shifted closer to Yao, this was also going to be the first night he would "bottom," if you will.

It wasn't like he had never been penetrated during sex before, but he hadn't done it in many years, and had never done it with Yao, despite having been the man's lover for quite the while now. It had never been a point of discussion really. Yao had always seemed to be quite content, and in fact pleased with the arrangement as it was but Ivan had always wondered... Well, the few times Ivan had allowed himself to be penetrated, by human lovers he had at the time, he had been too self-conscious, too nervous about seeming weak or womanly to really be able to enjoy it. But he did not see Yao as weak or womanly, far from it. Yao was not self-conscious or ashamed, he only knew the pleasure of it.

Ivan wanted to experience that.

Gently Yao continued to guide him, never breaking away for his lips for more than a few seconds, guiding him to the side until the next thing Ivan knew he was sitting on the bed, and Yao was climbing over him, pushing him down softly. Only when he was fully laid out on the bed, skirt riding up slightly, did Yao pull away again, pausing briefly to brush back his hair so it did not get in Ivan's face. Then he smiled down at Ivan, and instead of his normal soft, kindly smile, this one had a distinctly dirty quality that made Ivan shiver a little.

"I'm surprised you wanted to do this," murmured Yao, running a finger under one of the straps on the dress. "And I'm very surprised you wanted to wear _this_."

"I thought it might be... different," mumbled Ivan, glancing away, suddenly unable to explain his reasoning.

"Well," said Yao, slipping the strap off of Ivan's shoulder. "No matter the reason, let's make this experiment a fun one."

Ivan shivered again. It was times like these that reminded him just how experienced Yao was when it came to sex.

Yao kissed him again, a quick peck this time before trailing kisses down Ivan's jawline and neck, to his exposed clavicle, pausing to nip there, a hand slipping between them and finding the hem of Ivan's dress, slipping under it to find the skin underneath it.

"You're all business aren't you?" laughed Ivan breathily, and, not to be outdone, reached his own arms up to slip under Yao's shirt, feeling the warm skin of his back. It was comforting, and it was becoming easier and easier for Ivan to relax.

"It's easy when the business is as nice as this" Yao hummed into his skin. "And I do like this dress. Easy access." His hand slipped up a few more inches pointedly, and Ivan's laugh drowned out the rustling of tulle. This was not so bad at all really. Despite the changes, they were still falling into their banter, as usual, and Ivan could still feel himself hardening with anticipation. In fact, the soft brushing of the loose fabric against his member was oddly exciting in it's own right. He could not see from his current position, but he could guess from the pattern that Yao's breathing had taken, short and warm against the skin of his neck, that his lover was finding this whole situation just as arousing as him.

"You'll keep the dress on won't you?" asked Yao suddenly, and his voice was low and thick in a way that Ivan recognized, had heard many times before, and a little jolt of arousal and pride shot through him. Yes, Yao was definitely enjoying this. Enjoying _him_.

"Of course I will," he responded, quickly slipping one of his hands out from the man's short and instead fisting it in China's hair, drawing him back up for another searing kiss. All of his doubts were suddenly gone, chased away by adrenaline and arousal and sense of pride that _he_ could turn Yao on by wearing this outfit. In the moment he couldn't remember why he would have found it embarrassing or shameful in the first place, not when he could feel Yao's hips shift downwards against his own as they kissed, proving just how much the asian nation was enjoying this situation.

Need was building inside of him, a need for skin on skin contact, for stimulation beyond the gentle teasing of fabric, so he pulled away, nipping at Yao's lips before mumbling a simple "please," and hoping Yao would understand.

And understand he did, because there was no hesitation as he slipped his hand all the way up underneath the layers of dress, hand just as teasingly gently as the fabric, but warmer and steadier and just _Yao_.

"No underwear Ivan?" he chuckled as he ran his hand up and down Ivan's now fully erect length. "How bold of you."

Ivan had to grit his teeth to keep from squirming, because it would be silly to be rendered quite so wanton when they had barely started, but the burning newness of this situation made the whole thing harder to contain. "What did you expect?" he growled unconvincingly. "Panties?

"That would have been cute." Yao was smirking down at him, and suddenly he wrapped his hand around Ivan fully, rendering the man unable to contain a soft gasp. "This is nice too though."

"Yao..." groaned Ivan as the man's hand stroked him evenly, but slowly. "Yao, please I want..."

"Shh," hushed Yao quickly. "I know, I know." He place a soft kiss on Ivan's cheek before slipping his mouth down to his ear, whispering into it hotly. "Tonight is about you Ivan. So tell me, how do you want to do this?"

Ivan flushed at being given the choice, and he could feel his cock throb slightly in Yao's hand. He swallowed heavily before muttering "On... On my knees..."

Yao nodded against Ivan's cheek before pulling away, letting go of Ivan's cock and climbing off of him completely.

And of _course_ that is when Ivan got nervous again.

Still, he pushed it back, trying not to let it show as he climbed onto his knees and turned around, dress rustling all the way. The benefit, he had decided, of this position was that Yao would not be able to see him get embarrassed.

Any hopes he had of hiding his apprehension was dashed a few seconds after he got into position though, because he then felt Yao's hand in his hair and heard a soothing sigh of "Don't be nervous Ivan. We'll take this slow."

"I'm not nervous!" he insisted sharply.

"It's alright to be nervous," was all Yao said in reply, leaning over the man and wrapping his arms around his waist.

And for some reason that was all Ivan needed to hear. He relaxed, and his heart fluttered softly. Yao wouldn't think any less of him if he was nervous, or if he wore a dress or bottomed when they had sex. Yao respected him regardless, saw him as a man regardless.

"I love you," whispered Ivan.

Yao tighten his grip around his waist for a second. "I love you too," he whispered back. Then he released him and pulled away. "Are you ready?"

Ivan nodded. Yao did not reply, but Ivan felt a shift on the bed and then heard a rustling of what he knew must be the bedside dresser drawer. Then Yao had shifted back over and was pushing up the layers of Ivan's skirt, exposing him.

Ivan shivered a little, but twisted slightly to look behind him once he heard the familiar "pop!" of an opening bottle cap. Yao caught his eyes as he placed his hand, now slicked, at Ivan's entrance, circling it teasingly. He held his gaze steadily, eyes silently asking the question, and it was only when Ivan nodded, short and jerkily, that he broke it, looking away and causing Ivan to turn back to facing away from him, drawing a sharp intake of breath as the first finger pushed into him.

The first finger felt odd and slightly uncomfortable, but by the time the second finger was pushed in he was beginning to understand the pleasure behind the stretch inside him. The third finger caused him to grunt and stiffen a bit as it stung, but Yao cooed calmingly at him and twisted his fingers just so, hitting the spot inside that caused him to gasp outright in pleasure.

"Yao, oh, _Yao_," he moaned quietly as that spot was struck in him again. "Yao, _please_..."

Yao hesitated slightly, then pulled his fingers out, and Ivan knew the shuffling behind his was Yao pulling down the hem of his sweatpants and lubricating himself, before repositioning, pressing the head of his member against his entrance.

The question was not asked, but Ivan muttered "I'm ready," anyway. Yao's hands moved to Ivan's hips, squeezing them slightly, before carefully pressing inside.

Ivan hissed lowly, feeling the dull burn of being stretched, but Yao didn't rush him, pushing inside slowly and steadily until he was in completely, and then he stilled. For a bit the room was silent save for both their heavy breathing as Ivan adjusted to the feeling. The ache died down though, and soon Ivan felt himself wanting more, wanting friction.

So he rocked his hips back slightly and growled "Move."

Yao squeezed at his hips again, then, just as carefully as he had been doing everything, he began to thrust.

It was slow at first, as Ivan relaxed into the sensation. It was different than when he had done it before. Yao was experienced enough to know how not to hurt Ivan, and the pleasure was building slowly, each thrust feeling a little better than the last.

Ivan had never been particularly loud in bed, but gasping softly, he rocked back into one one of Yao's thrusts and moaned "More."

Above him Yao chuckled, but picked up the pace a little bit, thrusting in slightly deeper, and angling it just so that he hit Ivan's prostate. Ivan gasped again, louder than before, and rocked back harder to meet Yao, a moan coming out of his throat involuntarily.

Yao made a noise that was half laugh and half moan and hit that spot again with a little more force.

Ivan moaned aloud, his arms shaking as the pleasure of the new, increased pace wracked through him. It was so different from what he normally felt that he knew he wouldn't last long.

It was confirmed when one of Yao's hands released his hip and reached under him, pushing the layers of his dress away and gripping his cock, running a thumb over the head, smearing his pre cum.

Ivan hissed again, unable to keep his eyes open any longer as Yao began to stroke him in time with his thrusts, and it was all getting to be too much.

"Yao..." gasped Ivan raggedly. "Yao, I'm going to..."

"Yes," sighed Yao, and he was moaning softly under his breath as he thrust into him, never losing his pace. "Yes, me too, ah, Ivan-"

Ivan had always loved Yao's voice, and now was no exception because his arms gave out as the pressure inside him grew unbearable, and he found himself pressing his face into the bed, balling his hands into fists in the sheets before his body froze up completely, tensing all over as he came with a low, quiet moan.

Yao moaned over him, louder than Ivan had, and he thrust once, twice, three more times before he too froze up, releasing inside of Ivan with a soft cry.

Neither moved for a long moment, the air in the room hot and filled with the noise of their panting. Then Yao slowly pulled out of Ivan before unceremoniously collapsing to the side on the bed.

Ivan couldn't help but laugh at that a little, but he followed suit, collapsing next to the smaller man, the fabric of his dress swishing dramatically as he did so.

"Did you enjoy that?" muttered Yao tiredly. Ivan blinked and looked down at his body. His skirts were wrinkled and he was pretty sure he had cum on them, and he could not see it but he was sweaty, and he was sure his hair was mussed. If any other nation had seen him right now they would have never stopped laughing.

But he didn't really care.

Smiling he curled against Yao, wrapping his arms around him. Immediately the man responded, pressing against him, sweatpants to skirt, both of them completely relaxed and sated.

"It was wonderful," said Ivan, letting his eyes close as he fell asleep holding his lover, completely unashamed.

**END.**


End file.
